


Unwound, Unravelled

by TonyStarkish



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Chair Sex, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Face-Fucking, Floor Sex, Inappropriate Use Of Oval Office, M/M, Oral Sex, Possessive Steve Rogers, President Steve Rogers, Rough Sex, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Top Steve Rogers, Ultimates - Freeform, Which then Turns into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 05:25:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18204119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TonyStarkish/pseuds/TonyStarkish
Summary: It's hard work being an active-duty member of the Ultimates and the President of the USA. Steve is tense and stressed, and needs something to take it out on.Tony is more than willing to offer himself up for that particular job.





	Unwound, Unravelled

Steve looked out across the expansive garden of the White House so that he didn’t have to look at his desk, where the papers and forms were piling up.  _So much work._  So few hours in the day. He’d been run ragged for months now- serving as an active member of the Ultimates while also doubling up as President of the United States was... not easy, to say the least. He could feel the exhaustion cling to his bones. Feel the tension that ran along his shoulders at all times, simply desperate to be released on something. Anything at all. 

But he couldn’t even take the time out to go hit a bag, because then when he got back there’d only be more goddamn work. 

He sighed, resting his head in his palms. He needed to finish this up and then go to the mansion to get a uniform upgrade from Stark. He was headed out on a mission to Siberia in a few days time, and it was going to be high-risk. He needed all the protection he could get, really. And as showy as Stark was, he was still the best mind in America. Steve could give him that. 

He also appeared to be poking his head around the door of the Oval Office, waggling a bag of what looked to be takeout food in the air. Steve blinked, looking down at his watch. “I was supposed to come to you,” he said in greeting. 

“Well, I got bored and hungry, and figured you might be bored and hungry too.” Stark stepped in further as he spoke, easy and relaxed. He was dressed business; a fitted blue suit, his hair slicked back and neatly styled. But there was something about him that still managed to make it look... provocative. The swing of his hips as he walked, the button popped at his collar, the too-tight fit of his slacks around his ass. Stark probably did it without even thinking. Indecency was his birthright just as much as heroism was. 

Steve looked down swiftly, making sure not to linger on the man’s body for too long. “I’m busy right now,” he said gruffly, “You might have to wait.”

Of course, Stark didn’t take his words into consideration at all. Steve wasn’t sure what he’d expected. “That looks like a horrifying amount of paperwork,” the man said sympathetically as he wandered over to the desk where Steve was sat. “But I have Chinese food and I promise it will help.” He jiggled the bag again, leaning against the side of the desk and looking sideways at Steve. Steve simply tried to keep his eyes on the papers in front of him, and not the way Stark’s ass was pressed up against the side of the desk. It was hard  _not_ to look, when the man was so close and it was right in his line of sight. 

Steve just wanted to finish his damn paperwork. 

When Stark was met with nothing but silence, he lasted approximately two seconds before filling it once more. “You seem tense, darling.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What would you rather?” Stark smiled, a dangerous thing, “I have plenty in my repertoire, Captain.”

Steve tried hard, he really did-- but the way the name rolled off Stark’s tongue sounded so much  _dirtier_ than it ever did on the field, so much  _more_ \-- and Steve felt his spine shiver against his will, hands curling at the desk. 

Stark noticed. Of course he did-- this was his game, his skill. The smile widened on his mouth and he straightened his back, walking around the desk until he was stood behind Steve. For the sake of his own sanity, Steve did not turn around. “Stark,” he said in warning, “I’m working.”

“Oh, I can see that,” the other man murmured, his hands settling delicately against Steve’s shoulders, and Oh, God, it’d been so long since someone had touched him without violence. “You never stop, sweetheart. Aren’t you tired?”

_Yes,_  Steve wanted to say as Stark’s fingers traced up the seam of Steve’s shirt, lingered over the exposed sections of his neck. Steve shut his eyes and felt the way those delicate fingers left trails of heat across his skin. Stark could be absolutely impossible to deal with on a bad day, he was abrasive and loud and flamboyant in the areas of his life that no respectable person should be-- but damn it, he knew Steve better than... well, maybe anyone. He knew what it was that Steve needed.  

“I can help you relax, if you want,” Stark continued, pressing his thumbs delicately into the knots around Steve’s shoulders and bending low, the hairs of his beard brushing against his cheek as he leaned down and murmured the words into Steve’s ear, “I’m good at getting people to unwind. And there’s  _so_ much tension that needs releasing in your muscles, darling.”

Steve opened his mouth, a sharp rebuttal on his lips, but Tony dug his fingers against a cluster of knots on his left shoulder in that moment, gently releasing the pressure in them, and it felt so good that instead Steve  _moaned_ , eyes fluttering closed in pleasure. He bit his lip as soon as he heard himself, shutting the noise off, but it was too late. Stark had heard, and the small laugh that Steve felt blow across his cheek made him certain that the man knew exactly what he was doing to Steve. Knew and revelled in it. Stark had always been good at getting under Steve’s skin, making crass comments and sexual advances almost every damn time they met, then brushing Steve’s rebuttals off with a sleazy smile and a wave of his hand. Maybe he’d always known that he’d break Steve down, one day. Find him at a time when he wasn’t strong enough to say no. 

Like now. 

“What do you say, Mr President?” Tony’s lips brushed his ear, tongue slipping out just for a second to brush against the shell, dirty and wrong and inappropriately arousing, “want to use me as a little bit of stress relief? I wouldn’t mind. Not one bit.” He dug the heel of his palm into Steve’s lower back, and Steve breathed in sharply at the sensation of the other man’s massaging hands. 

He needed to say no. Of course he did, it was not even remotely appropriate, not here, not  _anywhere_. Steve was the God Damn President of America, not to mention the leader of the Ultimates, and he needed to be responsible, he needed...

He needed Stark, on his knees, sucking his cock right now. 

With a bitten off growl, Steve turned his head and then pushed his mouth upward, meeting Tony’s messily in the middle. The other man hummed smugly, but Steve didn’t give him long to revel in the triumph. Tony had offered himself up, and Steve was damn well going to take it. Extending his arm, he wrapped his hand around the back of the other man’s neck, fingers tugging through the slick hair. He felt the way Tony’s breath hitched and his eyes fluttered as Steve tugged a little too hard. Figured. Stark could get off on anything; even pain.

He licked into Tony’s mouth once, and then shoved Tony onto his knees by the hand wrapped around the back of his neck. Tony fell with a thump against the plush rug, eyes wide and looking up at Steve, somewhat dazed. The look only lasted for a second however, before the disbelief turned to something sharper, more anticipating. Steve just stared right back, giving the man below him a once-over. Tony’s eyelashes were dark and long, curling tantalisingly as he looked up at Steve through them, knowing exactly the way it looked from above. He wondered what it’d feel like to see Tony Stark’s face coated with his come, dripping off those eyelashes, pooling at the corners of that beautiful mouth.

He wanted to find out.

“Suck,” Steve told him, his voice leaving no room for argument as he pushed Tony’s face into his crotch, mouth pressing against the obvious tent of his slacks. “Use that mouth for something useful for once in your fucking life.”

This time, it was Tony who made a noise in the back of his throat, mouth opening and licking Steve’s length through the fabric of his pants. Steve let him work for a second, before pulling his head back and reaching for the buckle of his pants, undoing it with one hand while the other kept Tony’s head looking up at him, eyes blown wide, mouth open and slack. 

Belt undone, he opened his fly and pulled out his cock, thick and heavy in his hand. Then he used the other one to push Tony’s mouth into it. He eased up halfway down, but Tony didn’t stop. Tony took him all the way, mouth stretching wide to accommodate the width, and moaned obscenely. Steve just gaped at him, feeling as Tony’s mouth closed around him, sucking as he pulled back just a fraction and then went back the whole way once more. 

Steve felt desire burn its way up his spine at the sight of the other man, on his knees in front of him as he licked his way up Steve’s cock like it’s what he was born for. He made a pretty little keening noise in the back of his throat as Steve pushed him down further and pulled back again, happy to let Steve fuck into his mouth, use him how he pleased. “God, you feel good,” he muttered harshly, hips canting up to meet Tony’s mouth sharply. “Better than I ever imagined.”

Tony’s fingers squeezed against Steve’s thighs, gasping as he drew back for air. Steve let him have it for a moment, before pushing him back where he belonged. And it was easy to imagine that-- Tony, just staying here, under Steve’s desk, mouth stuffed with his cock while Steve filled out the paperwork, called secretary of defence, arranged a summit in Europe. He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought of Tony in this way before-- truth was, some days it was all he could ever think. Tony made sex into an art; he exuded it, revelled in it. He was a slut and he knew it, and most importantly, he didn’t even care. He flaunted around in that skimpy dressing gown, lounged on chairs like he was just waiting for someone to come over, spread his legs and take him right there. And God, how many times had Steve just wished he could? Wished that he could take Tony by his slender wrists, pin him to whichever table was closest and just fuck him until the man couldn’t walk?

It was depraved, and Steve knew it. They were fantasies he only let himself revel in during the night, when God and the world were all asleep. 

But fuck, his imagination didn’t even hold a candle to this. 

Tony pulled back with a wet suck, tongue lapping at the precome spilling from Steve’s cock. His lips were red and spit-slicked, some of it running down his chin as he gazed up at Steve, enraptured. His previously neat attire was a thing of the past; he wasn’t a businessman with a pressed suit, a slick hairdo and a dozen quips on the tip of his tongue any more-- now he was Steve’s. There to be used, owned. Sat at Steve’s feet like a pet. His hair was wild, clumped into fistfuls, and his suit creased from the position he was in. His cheeks were flushed red and the composure was gone, maybe for the first time ever. 

“Don’t you look a picture,” Steve murmured, hand slipping from the back of Tony’s neck in order to brush a thumb over the man’s plush bottom lip, covered in drool and flecks of Steve’s precome. Tony shut his eyes and instinctively sucked Steve’s digit into his mouth, laving at the joint with his tongue. Steve let him have his fun for a second, and then pulled out once more, wiping the saliva from his finger against Tony’s cheek. “Sat there at my feet like a two-bit whore, desperate for a fuck. You’re so pretty like that.”

“Please, Steve,” Tony shuddered violently and swayed forward, pressing his forehead into Steve’s thigh and digging the heel of his palm into his own throbbing erection that was tenting his navy slacks. “Please, I need you in me, please--”

“Well, for starters, this is my office, and you work under me. You address me as ‘sir’, not Steve.”

Against his thigh, Tony gasped, drawing up close to Steve’s leg and then rutting his hips up to try and find some friction. Steve merely looked down and watched. “Please, please,  _Sir_.”

Had Steve been feeling less desperate himself, he would have held out, made Tony work for it a little more. As it was, the form of address falling from Tony’s plush lips was enough to send Steve’s cock throbbing with want, and with a hard growl he took Tony’s jaw in his hand, leaning down to lick across the beads of sweat forming at the man’s temples. “Hands and knees,” he ordered, “elbows down, ass up.”

Tony nodded hurriedly and slipped away, turning around and then slumping onto all fours. Steve watched him stick his ass out, the fabric of his slacks going taut around each cheek. Tony muffled a groan into his forearm, and Steve saw the way the too-tight fit was rubbing painfully against Tony’s own cock. That’d teach him to wear such Goddamn tight pants. 

Steve got up out of his chair slowly, eyes on Tony as he walked across to his kitbag on the other side of the office. Tony shook where he was sprawled, head poking out from behind the desk, but did not move. It was intoxicating, watching the man like that, pliant and for once in his fucking life, actually listening to what Steve told him. He could see why everyone wanted a piece of him; it was a heady feeling, having Stark’s concentration solely on you. He liked to talk big, liked to dominate the room he was in and run circles around the people he met, all while drunk off his ass, usually- but here, there was none of that. Here, Tony was nothing other than a talented mouth and a hole to be fucked. 

Steve’s skin burned with the thought of it, and he reached down to quickly yank the lube out of his side-pocket, before walking back to Tony and sitting once more on his chair. His body leaned forward, hand trailing along the peak of Tony’s ass, his fingers pressing into the groove down the middle. He felt the man’s shudders reverberate through him and smiled. He was going to enjoy this.

sliding along Tony’s slender waist, he found the belt buckle that kept his pants in place and, unwilling to waste time fiddling with it, just tore it in half and then searched for the fly, finding it a second or so later. He pulled down the zip and then leaned back, hands pushing Tony’s slacks down to his thighs.”God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, mostly to himself as he took a handful of that deliciously full ass and squeezed, his fingers leaving red marks when he drew back. 

“St-- sir,” Tony muttered, leaning back, pushing into Steve’s hand, “come on, please, hurry up.”

Steve just huffed, popping open the cap of lube and then spreading a generous amount across his fingers. “I’d always known you would be needy in bed,” he began absently, pushing Tony’s ass open and then slowly inserting a finger. Tony was tight and hot around him, and he gave a full-body shudder and a loud, obscene groan at the intrusion. Steve wondered whether the walls were soundproof. If the people outside could hear Tony’s voice as Steve fucked into him with his fingers. “You gave off that vibe. All talk, that’s what you are. Like to pretend you’re always in control, you always know everything. But here, you don’t, do you?”

He pushed in another finger, scissoring gently, Tony’s knees wobbled and his hands gripped the carpet tightly as he gasped, rutted back into Steve’s fingers. “Jesus Christ,” he hissed.

Steve smiled, curling his finger and brushing against Tony’s prostate. The man’s head jerked, throat arching in a silent moan. “You’re loving every second of it, you filthy fucking slut. Love to be owned just as much as I love owning you.” He added a third finger after that, the space tight, stretching to accommodate the width of his fingers. He had big hands, bigger than average. But Tony fitted around him so well. “I am going to fuck you so hard you walk out of here with a limp and a voice hoarse from screaming, so if you want out or that’s too much for you, now’s your chance to say so.”

Far from look concerned by it, however, Tony only grinned, wild and excited. “Do your worst, Mr President,” he breathed, turning to look at him from over his shoulder and biting his lip enticingly.

Steve pulled out his fingers brusquely, and Tony made a half-hearted attempt to follow him as he gasped from the sudden change. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Steve told him simply, and then without preamble, he took Tony’s hips, lined up his cock and thrust forward, deeper and deeper until he bottomed out. Tony was impossibly tight around him, and his whole body jerked and shifted as Steve’s cock made its home inside him. Steve watched, fascinated, as Tony’s fingers clenched and unclenched around the plush blue carpet beneath him. Then he pulled back, leaving Tony almost completely empty until a second later when he thrust forward again, brutal and hard enough that Tony would’ve crumbled to the floor if not for Steve’s hand circling his stomach and holding him up.

There was fire and electricity raging through his blood as he took Tony’s body and made it his own, setting a fast and brutal pace. Tony’s mouth never stopped moving, a stream of garbled words and loud, explicit moans that Steve had only ever heard in porn. He leaned over Tony’s body, ramming into him from behind fast and brutally enough that Tony collapsed forward onto his face, cheek pressed against the carpet. Shaking forearms tried to push himself back up, but Steve leaned forward and pressed his hand against the back of Tony’s neck. “Stay,” he ordered, before angling downward just a little, finally giving Tony the satisfaction of hitting his prostate, hard and fast and repeatedly as he pushed in and out. 

Tony cried out weakly, voice muffled against the carpet. He was shaking all over, body jerking every few seconds, and from the spaced-out look in his eyes and pleading string of cries falling from his lips, Steve figured he was close. He grinned. “Knees sore?” He asked-- not waiting for a reply before he leaned forward, scooping Tony into his arms and, with his formidable strength, lifting him straight up, still sheathed on his cock. 

Tony cursed in a language Steve didn’t even recognise, head falling backward into Steve’s shoulder. “Oh God, please, please don’t stop,” he whispered hoarsely, “Please, sir, I’m begging you, I’m so close, I need to--”

Steve lifted him upward and pulled him off his cock a little as he stood straight, and then let his knees buckle as he sat back down on his chair, Tony falling with him and landing straight into his lap, his ass pressed right against Steve’s cock as he once more bottomed out in the other man almost violently quickly.

Tony  _screamed_ , back arching against Steve’s chest as he feet scrabbled to position themselves against the desk, get some better leverage. Steve just watched him struggle for a moment, let him writhe on Steve’s length like he was going to die if he didn’t get off in the next three seconds. It was amusing. Steve wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to see anything else when he looked at the man- listened Stark try to argue or snap at him as he usually did. All he’d think was:  _‘I know what you sound like when you’re begging on your knees. When you’re screaming my name.’_

He licked Tony’s neck, a long, wet stripe from shoulder to ear. Then he grabbed Tony’s waist, fingers digging bruisingly into the skin, and hoisted him up before yanking him back down. It felt like nothing Steve had known; the power he held in his hands as Tony allowed Steve to just fuck into his body as he pleased was almost too good to comprehend. Tony was giving himself up completely, and Steve was taking all he could goddamn get, without hesitation. It was liberating, amazing. Hot beyond anything Steve had ever experienced. 

“I’m gonna-- I’m close, I’m gonna... please-” Tony’s voice was barely even a throaty whisper by that point, eyes screwed shut and head lolling against Steve’s shoulder. It was turned in slightly, Tony’s mouth brushing the skin of his neck, and Steve slowed down the pace a fraction, sitting Tony down fully into his lap and taking a gamble as he leaned forward, slotting their mouths together. It was messy and uncoordinated, and Tony’s mouth was slack, hot and open against his own.

Tony moaned into Steve’s mouth, tasting like coffee and sex and all the best things in the world, and then came.

His release spilled onto Steve’s thighs, coated Tony’s own suit, and once he was done he slumped bonelessly into Steve’s hold, body loose and pliable. He breathed shakily, pushing his eyes open in order to look at Steve. “By all means, carry on,” he waved a hand loosely, voice mostly just a hoarse pant. 

Steve narrowed his eyes. “What, you think I was gonna go easy now you’re done?” He laughed, before picking up Tony’s hips once more and shoving him down further onto Steve’s cock, still hard and ready to go. Tony shut his eyes once more, simply letting Steve what he wanted as he fucked furiously into Tony’s hole. He was weak and pliant, whining and keening at every movement Steve made against him like every twitch would push him over the edge and into total oblivion. 

Steve had never known sex could be like this. 

With that thought in mind, he lifted Tony off him completely, the head of his dick just brushing Tony’s entrance, before bringing him down hard and then pushing his hips upward to meet, feeling the tightness envelop him once more. 

Three seconds later, and he came too, spilling inside of Tony with a long groan of bliss. Every sense whited out, the only thing he was aware of was Tony, and his body, and the slick skin of his neck against Steve’s mouth. His whole body burned with it, the orgasm lasting longer than any one that he’d ever tried to pull out on his own. 

Once he’d finally finished up and regained his awareness, he remained still with Tony, the man still sat deep in his lap, pants at his ankles, sheathed around Steve’s cock. He was totally ruined- fucked out and dirty, covered in come and spit and sweat. It shouldn’t have been hot, but fuck, it was. Tony Stark was going to have to walk out of there, surrounded by men and women in pristine suits and fancy attire, and he would look like nothing more than a whore that’d given a blowie in one of the back rooms. 

Steve shuddered, and then lifted Tony out of him, sitting him back down on the carpeted floor at Steve’s feet. He looked down at his pants, now splashed with both their spend. 

“You got me messy,” he said with a tilt of his head, “clean it up.”

Tony, still too blissed-out to come up with a witty reply, just swallowed and then nodded, shaking fingers reaching for the pocket square in his pocket. But Steve shook his head. “No,” he corrected, “with your mouth.”

There was a second of pause, and then Tony leaned forward slowly, hands settling on Steve’s knees as he bent down and licked their come off the fabric of Steve’s uniform, lapping away with lazy strokes. Steve watched him, enraptured, and feeling his dick twitch with interest at the sight. Tony worked flawlessly, cleaning Steve’s trousers with his tongue until all traces were gone. Then he looked up enquiringly, face open, slightly vulnerable. 

Steve brushed his fingers across the corner of Tony’s lips, swiping up a drop of come and then pushing it back into the wet heat of the man’s mouth. He took Steve’s finger happily, eyes fluttering shut once more, slumped against Steve’s leg.

“You did good,” Steve told him gently, pulling out of Tony’s mouth to stroke his hand through Tony’s ruined hair, “you did amazing for me.”

Tony preened, leaning heavily into Steve’s touch. “Feeling more relaxed?” He murmured, cracking open an eye and smiling.

Steve blinked, remembering the purpose of the sex. Then he huffed, leaning back in his chair and tucking his cock back into his uniform. “I’d say so,” he agreed with a nod, “you have a good idea now and again, I’ll admit that.”

Tony smiled into Steve’s knee, mumbling something he couldn’t quite hear. “What was that?”

“I said if that’s what you need to unwind a little bit, we should do it more often,” Tony repeated, looking up at him from between Steve’s open legs with those agonizingly pretty eyes, the position so submissive it sent something wild flaring through Steve’s brain. 

He thought of doing this regularly, and it almost brought him up to half-mast again. He figured, once Tony left, he could jack off at least three more times to the memory of this alone. 

“I’d like that,” he agreed quietly, leaning forward and buttoning up Tony’s shirt, “but for now, I need to get back to work. Thank you for the helping hand.”

Tony watched him button his wrinkled shirt up, leaving the last few open and displaying the redness from where he’d rubbed against the carpet. “I think I might need to borrow a jacket.”

“No,” Steve told him simply, “I don’t think you do. I think you need to walk out there, look them in the eye, and let them guess what you just did.” He leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down at Tony with a dangerous smile. Then, against his better judgement, he tilted his head down and stuck out his tongue, licking Tony from chin to forehead while Tony just sat there and goddamn _took it_. Steve had no idea what’d come over him-- he didn’t do this, it wasn’t who he was. Not usually. 

But... but there was just something about the way that the other man looked at him; wide eyes and open mouth, practically begging to be controlled. Outside in the real world, Tony was already enrapturing, but here-- just the two of them, with Tony on his knees in front of Steve, it was a whole other level of intensity that Steve had no idea how he was supposed to resist now he’d tasted it. 

Then again, maybe he didn’t have to. Tony  _had_ offered a repeat performance, after all. 

He leaned back with a smile and looked Tony up and down. Filthy. Ruined. Intoxicatingly beautiful. “I’ll see you tomorrow at training,” he said, waving a hand and then pushing the chair back under the desk as he pulled up a file he should have been working on, “thanks for bringing food.”

He heard nothing for a second, until there was a small shuffle as Tony stood up. He hissed through his teeth and Steve smiled, glancing sideways as the belt Tony had been wearing was discarded into the waste bin. He zipped up his fly and tucked his shirt back in, pushing down his hair and trying desperately to retain a modicum of dignity. It was futile, really- Tony still looked like he’d just been fucked within an inch of his life.

Tony glanced at him a few times as he walked back over to the door of Steve’s office, limping a little. He straightened his tie and cleared his throat as he put his hand to the doorknob, then turned back to Steve for a second as he opened it. 

“It was an honour serving you, Mr. President,” Tony murmured, voice low, sultry, and of fucking  _course_ he had to have the last word, that was such a Stark movie. That wasn’t to say that it worked any less well than what Tony had intended it for though, and Steve felt his own hands clench against the pen he was holding as he looked over at the man across the room.  _I know what it looks when you come. I know what it feels like to have you completely, totally at my mercy._

The door shut with a small click and Steve sat back against the desk chair, sighing heavily. From across the room, George Washington eyed him judgmentally through his painting. Steve just scowled at him. “As if you wouldn’t have done the same,” he muttered. 

God. He’d just fucked Tony Stark in the Oval Office. Security had probably seen all that on tape. Tony was walking around the halls of the God Damn White House having been fucked senseless by the President of the United States. 

Really was a brave new world, huh?


End file.
